


Sharpies, Magazines, and Race Cars

by anonymous_sibyl



Category: Bandom, Bandom - My Chemical Romance
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-30
Updated: 2007-09-30
Packaged: 2017-10-03 08:12:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymous_sibyl/pseuds/anonymous_sibyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somebody around here is the new fuschia, but it may or may not be art.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sharpies, Magazines, and Race Cars

**Author's Note:**

> Gerard references the movie Buckaroo Banzai.
> 
> This work is licensed under a [Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License](http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/us/). None of the media or characters written about in my fanfiction belong to me and I make no profit from these works.

When he was just a little Gerard he decided he wanted to grow up to be a rock star-slash-artist. Or a zookeeper. Or Peter Pan. Or maybe Buckaroo Banzai, but the rock star thing sort of covered that, if you didn't count how he wasn't a physicist, neurosurgeon, samurai, or race car driver.

"Do you think I could drive a race car?"

"No."

"Oh." Gerard sighed heavily. When Frank refused to look up from his magazine, he sighed again.

"Driving a race car is probably dangerous, Gee." Frank licked his finger and turned the page. "But, if you want, you can call us the Hong Kong Cavaliers for the rest of today."

"All of you?"

"Yes."

"Even Bob?"

"Yes."

"Even Ray?"

"Yes."

"Even Mikey?"

"Yes." Frank turned another page. "But I get to be Perfect Frankie."

"Cool." Gerard thought about it for a while, wondering how it'd feel to fight aliens and if Brian would mind if he started calling him John Bigboote. "I'm still bored."

"Really, Gee? Because I couldn't tell."

Gerard rolled over onto his stomach and kicked his feet in the air. "So what do you want to do?"

"Well," Frank said, "we could read a magazine. Like, if you wanted, I could read this magazine I have right here on my lap and you could go somewhere far away and get your own magazine to read." He lowered his head to hide his chuckling. "If you wanted."

"Or I could draw on you."

"Draw me? Sure." Frank mussed his hair then pursed his lips. "Blue Steel."

"_On_ you," Gerard repeated. "Between all the other stuff that's… on you."

"Cool." Frank lifted his shirt and looked at his stomach. "I'm a _canvas_."

* * *

"Stay still."

"It tickles."

The pen skidded across Frank's back, a blue line crossing his shoulder blade. Gerard absently licked his finger and rubbed it across the mark until it faded. "Stay still."

"It's hard being a canvas," Frank observed.

"Canvases don't talk."

"Do canvases read magazines?"

"No." Gerard pressed his free hand into the back of Frank's neck. "Stay still."

When Gee finished, Frank held his hand over his stomach, not daring to touch the marks on his skin, while he stared into the full-length mirror. "Wow."

"Yeah." Gerard cracked a smile. "But is it art?"

Frank shook his head from side to side, laughing. "No, dude, it's Frank."

"Frank is the new black."

"And the new red, and blue, and green." He pressed his hand to the flowering vine climbing his waist. "And maybe fuschia."

"Frank is the new fuschia," Gerard agreed. "Frankie?"

"Yeah?"

"You think tomorrow we could learn to drive race cars?"

"Sure." Their eyes met in the mirror and Frank grinned. "But for the rest of the day you have to be totally quiet while I finish reading my magazine. Deal?"

Gerard sighed heavily, twirled the open Sharpie in his fingers and was momentarily distracted by the streak it left across his hand. He could make something out of that. Frank wasn't the only new fuschia around here. He grinned back. "Deal."


End file.
